The Fallen and Falling
by JustGoAndGetIt
Summary: Sam and Dean get a call from an old friend of Bobby's, who thinks there might be a nest of vampires in Three Rivers, Michigan. What they find there, is so much more.
1. Chapter 1

"Dude, stop freaking fidgeting!"

Dean glanced angrily over at Sam from the driver's seat of the Impala. They had been on the road for hours, on their way to a small town in Michigan. Dean was feeling irritable, and his brother wasn't helping. Sam stopped bouncing his long legs, let out a huge sigh, and put his hands behind his head.

They hadn't had a new case since last Wednesday, and it was what… Sunday? Monday already? The days were blurring together for Dean. Thankfully, he had gotten a call from a hunter named Billy, who was an old friend of Bobby's. Billy hadn't been taking on many cases recently… Dean figured he had to be almost seventy by now. He had called Dean with a tip that there might be a vampire nest in Three Rivers, and asked if the boys were anywhere near there. They weren't really, having just attended an Eagles of Death Metal concert in Denver over the weekend, but they were so starved for cases that they decided to make the drive to Michigan.

"How much longer do you reckon?" Sam asked, bouncing his legs again. Dean gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.

"Why don't you look it up instead of bothering me?"

" _Sheesh,"_ Sam muttered under his breath. "Someone needs to get laid."

"Excuse me?" Dean interjected. "I get laid enough for the two of us, Samantha."

That wasn't true at all. The fact was, Dean just hadn't been feeling it lately. Sam would say he was striking out, but Dean's heart just hadn't been in it. He would never admit it out loud, but he was missing Lisa. It had been years since she started her new life. Most of the time Dean got on okay without thinking about her too much. But every once in a while, there would be a day (week, month) when he couldn't seem to get her out of his mind.

The last hour of the drive blurred by mostly in silence, except for the Lynyrd Skynyrd album in the background. The scenery was nice, and just got nicer the closer they got to the town of Three Rivers. The trees lining the highway were mostly still green, but a few had begun to turn orange, red, and yellow with the mid-October chill. Gravel crunched as the Impala pulled into the parking lot of a small but decent-looking motel. The sky was just starting to turn orange with the sunset.

"I'll get us a room," Sam said, already striding toward the front door of the office.

"Mm hmm," Dean replied, leaning up against the side of the car. He took a deep breath and scanned the surroundings. There was a park across the street from the motel, and it looked like there was a bar a couple blocks up. Everything was peaceful, quiet. It was hard to imagine a nest of vampires being anywhere near this town, but four people had gone missing over the last week, and it would seem that the Three Rivers Police Department didn't know where to begin.

"All set," Sam called as he walked back towards the car. "Wanna get a bite to eat before we start?"

They ended up at the sports bar that Dean noticed a few blocks away. The place was called Millie's. It was okay inside. Certainly better than some of the filthy haunts where the boys had hustled pool. It was a little dark, and smelled like fried fish, but the place looked clean, and had a decent crowd for a Monday night.

"Hi there, my name is Lisa and I'll be taking care of you this evening."

Dean's heart fluttered briefly when she said her name, but he tried to pretend nothing had happened. The waitress looked nothing like Lisa. She had platinum blonde hair with brown roots showing through. Tight clothes and a cute face, but Dean didn't feel like flirting.

"Can I get either of you a drink?" she asked. "Still got about ten minutes left for happy hour. Two for one on our house amber ale."

"That sounds great. Thanks, Lisa," Sam said, smiling politely at the waitress.

"Great. I'll be back in a minute. And we've got live music starting at seven."

Sam watched her walk away in amusement.

"What's up with you? No pickup line? No winks?" he asked.

"Nah, we're here to work," Dean replied. "See anything unusual yet?"

"Nothing. Seems hard to believe that anything bad could happen in a place like this. I'll go see if I can find anything out."

Sam stood up and walked over to the bar, and started talking to a couple sitting there. Dean scanned the room, looking for anyone shifty or suspicious. Besides a guy that Dean was pretty sure was cheating in a game of poker, nothing else caught his attention. The waitress (Dean refused to say her name in his head) returned with their beers.

"Thanks," he said, flashing her a smile for good measure. He noticed a little blush appear on her cheeks.

"Can I get you two anything to eat?"

"Two burgers would be great."

"Coming right up, sugar," she said with a shy smile. But Dean was distracted when he heard the opening line of _Simple Man_ coming from the small stage in the corner. He had just been listening to that song in the car.

A girl had come from apparently nowhere, and was sitting on a stool on the stage, playing a guitar.

 _"Mamma told me… When I was young… Sit beside me… My only son… Listen closely, to what I say. And if you do this, it'll help you, some sunny day."_

She certainly wasn't a professional-level singer, but her voice had that sweet, raspy kind of sound that caught your attention. And she was nailing the guitar solos in the song. Dean was impressed. He found himself staring at her as she played. Dark brown hair, maybe just a little messy, hanging in soft waves down past her shoulders. She was wearing black jeans and heels, and a plain green sleeveless shirt. _Cute as hell,_ Dean found himself thinking. Maybe not the best choice of words. He still felt a little sick to his stomach anytime he thought about hell.

"So get this," Sam said, sitting back down at his chair, and making Dean jump out of his reverie. "Each of the people who went missing apparently belong to the same church."

"Two burgers!" Lisa said cheerfully, placing them down on the table.

"Oh, umm, thank you," Sam said, poorly masking the annoyance in his voice. He waited until the waitress walked away. "Dude, I told you to get me the chicken salad."

"Um, no, you definitely did not," Dean retorted. "Man up and eat a damn burger every once in a while." Sam muttered under his breath for a moment as he put ketchup on his plate.

"So did you hear what I said?" he asked. "All of the missing victims went to the same church."

"Tha iv weir," Dean mumbled through a huge mouthful of burger. Sam looked at him in disgust.

"Yeah. Weird. And not typical vampire behavior. I think we need to go door to door, talk to the missing people's families tomorrow. Dude, earth to Dean!"

"What?" Dean replied, trying not to look too awkward. Sam had caught him staring at the girl on stage. Sam turned to see what he was looking at, and a smirk appeared on his face.

"Aha," he teased. "She's cute. Pretty good, too. And she even knows Lynyrd Skynyrd! I'd say you have a winner."

"Shut up," Dean muttered, as the girl on stage finished up the song. She reached for the microphone, smiling at the smattering of applause.

"Thanks so much!" she said with a bright smile. "My name is Beth, and the kind owners of Millie's have been gracious enough to allow me to play a few tunes for you tonight. And don't be stingy, y'all. This is how I keep food on the table," she finished with a wink, gesturing to the tip jar at the foot of the stage. "Requests are five bucks. If I've heard it, I can probably stumble through it."

She launched into _Little Black Submarines_ by the Black Keys next. _Not classic rock, but still a good song,_ Dean thought. He watched as a few people from around the room meandered up to throw tips in the jar. She thanked them each with a smile and nod as she sang, and Dean felt the urge to get up and put something in the jar, to earn a smile of his own. He was reaching for his wallet as she finished up the song, but Sam jumped up with a smug look on his face and beat him to it. Dean couldn't hear what Sam said to her as he dropped a five into the jar, but she smiled and nodded, replying to Sam with a little laugh.

"This next one is a request for Dean. And it's a weird one, I'll tell you that. But we aim to please!"

Dean glared at Sam as he walked back to the table, grinning like a fool. He had asked Beth to play _Don't You Want Me_ by Human League.

"Jokes on you, pal," Dean said. "She probably thinks your name is Dean."

"Nah, I told her this is for my brother. The guy sitting at the table staring at you." Dean spat some of his beer in surprised annoyance.

"Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam laughed.

They ended up spending way more time at that bar than either of them had meant to. Beth played for a couple hours, and the music was good. Both brothers got pretty drunk, and Dean remembered thinking that they hadn't just let loose and enjoyed themselves in a while.

"I mean, I just don't understand, why, why they wouldn't at least finish up the series, you know?" Sam slurred to Dean as they stumbled their way back to the motel. "Like, it would definitely make money, if they just did another one. The first one was so good. And Lisbeth was just so kickass, that like, everyone would want to see more of her."

"Mm hmm, yeah, you're totally right," Dean replied. He had lost track of what Sam was saying. He wouldn't admit it, but his mind had wandered back to Beth. He had spoken to her just a little at the end of her set. She was clever, and charming, and he was really hoping to run into her again before they left town.

"You're daydreaming about that girl again aren't you?" Sam laughed. "Aww. Deanie has a little crush."

"What? No! Shut up!" Dean sputtered, hoping Sam couldn't tell he was blushing in the dark.

"It's okay, Dean! It's normal. Healthy, even. I was starting to wonder…"

"Wonder what?" Dean asked, irritated.

"Nothing, nothing…"

"Dude, you can't just start to say something and then not finish it."

"You told me you would punch me if I ever said her name again."

They walked on in stony silence. Dean pondered that he obviously hadn't been as good at hiding his pining for Lisa as he thought. But then again, Sam was an intuitive guy, and they spent all their time together. Of course he would know when Dean was missing Lisa. Ordinarily, this discussion might have pissed Dean off, but he was in such a good mood from their night out that he just slung his arm over Sam's shoulder (no small feat).

"Come on, Sammy. Let's get some sleep."


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Dean was woken by the sound of the motel door opening and closing. He sat up quickly and instantly regretted it. He could feel the throbbing in his temples from the alcohol the night before. When he saw that it was just Sam coming back from a run, he collapsed back onto the bed. Sam was still young enough that he could get wasted and be able to get up for a workout the next day. Dean, on the other hand, was starting to feel his age.

"Dude, still not up? C'mon, Dean. We have work to do."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean grumbled, sitting up slowly and rummaging in his bag for some painkillers. He made a cup of coffee in the cheap motel coffee pot as he heard Sam start up the shower in the bathroom. Dean flipped open the computer and jotted down the addresses of the people on their list.

A short time later, after both boys were showered up and in their suits, they got into the Impala and drove to the first address. Sam rummaged in the glove compartment for a moment and pulled out two fake FBI badges. They strode up to the first house, which was apparently that of the parents of a missing girl. It was cute; your typical white-picket-fence, all-American-suburbia home. Sam knocked on the door, and a few moments later, it opened.

The woman who answered was clearly in distress. Her hair was unkempt, and her eyes were swollen and red. They kept darting around, to the street behind Sam and Dean, and back to the phone in the hallway behind her.

"Yes? Who are you?"

"Mrs. Hendrickson?" Sam asked, in his best bedside voice. She nodded. "I'm agent Wells, this is my partner, agent Billings," he continued, as the boys flashed their badges. "We heard about your daughter's disappearance, as well as the others in town, and were hoping you could answer a few questions for us."

"No," she replied sternly. "Not anymore. Not again. I just… can't. Talk to the other agent who was here yesterday." With that, she shut the door, and Dean could hear the deadbolt locking. The boys exchanged glances and walked back toward the car.

"Another agent yesterday?" Dean whispered to Sam. "Do you think it's actual FBI, or another hunter got wind of the case?"

"Could be either one," Sam replied. "Think we should be pushy with her, or just hope we have better luck at the next house?" Dean pondered for a moment.

"I say we move on to the next one. If we keep striking out, we can come back here and be pushy." Sam nodded, and they hopped back into the car.

At the next home, which was an old and slight run down duplex, there was no answer. The third place they visited had a similar story as the first house. The man who answered their knock looked totally lost.

"I already talked to the FBI. You people need to get it together." Slam. The boys exchanged a glance and Dean shook his head. _Knock, knock, knock, knock._ The door swung back open violently.

"What did I just say?" the man said, angrily.

"Sir, the agent that interviewed you yesterday has recently had a family emergency, and won't be able to remain on the case. I apologize for the difficulty, but we need to ask you some questions. I'm sure you don't want to impede our investigation," Dean finished coolly.

The man looked down and rubbed his eyes, as if stalling while he decided whether to cooperate or to raise hell. His shoulders slumped as exhaustion won out, and he jerked his head back toward the house, inviting them in.

Sam and Dean walked into the house, scanning the rooms that they could see for anything unusual. Other than some empty pizza boxes and beer cans, there was nothing much out of place.

"So, Mr. Hoffman," Sam began. "Your wife, Melinda, went missing last Tuesday, correct?"

"That's right," he replied. "It's been a whole week."

"Was there anything unusual going on that day, or in the days leading up to her disappearance?"

"Nothing that I can recall. It was a normal weekend. We went out to dinner with some friends Saturday night, church on Sunday, worked around the yard, raking up leaves that afternoon. Mel was good, she was happy. That's why I don't think she would have run away. She has a good life."

"We've heard that all of the victims belonged to the same church in town, St. Matthew's. Any idea why that would be?"

"Don't you go calling her a victim," the man said, hands shaking a little in his lap. "She's just missing."

"Of course," Sam interjected. "Our apologies. But does the church connection mean anything to you?"

"Nothing that I can think of. It's a normal church. Small parish, good people. Of course every once in a while there's the normal drama of who's going to plan the annual fundraiser, but aside from that? I can't think of a single reason anyone would target the church."

"When was the last time you saw Melinda?"

"Tuesday morning. We were both leaving for work. I kissed her on the cheek and rushed out. Wish I had held her a little longer, now. She never made it to the office."

Sam asked him a few more questions, without any more real answers. They thanked him and walked back to the car.

"Well that was useless," Dean muttered.

"Yeah, pretty much," Sam agreed. "But we have one more house to try. This last lady's elderly mother went missing. Seems like these people have nothing in common except for that church."

They drove across town to a small apartment building, and Dean pressed the buzzer button for apartment 3A.

"Yes?"

"Ms. Shane?"

"Yes."

"Agents Billings and Wells here, from the FBI. We wanted to talk to you about your mother."

There was a pause, and then the buzzer sounded, unlocking the door in the corner. Sam and Dean climbed the stairs to the 3rd floor, and knocked on the door marked 'A.' The place was clean, but something was just depressing about the building. It was old and musty smelling, like it told the story of an era gone by. The door opened slowly.

"Can I see your badges?"

"Of course," Sam replied, as they pulled out the badges and handed them to her. She handed them back after a few moments.

"Come in."

They followed her into a cramped living room and sat on a paisley-printed couch that she gestured to.

"Ms. Shane-"

"You can call me Barb."

"Okay," Dean went on. "Barb, was there another agent here to speak with you yesterday?" It was a risky question to ask, but Dean was a little thrown off that she hadn't brought it up when the other two people they spoke to had complained.

"I wasn't in yesterday, so I wouldn't know. I was at my brother's house all day." Dean inwardly sighed with relief. It would be a little easier then.

Sam launched into the same kind of questions they had asked Mr. Hoffman. The last time Barb had seen her mother was last Wednesday afternoon. She had left the apartment around 9:00AM, on her way to visit her friend Patty a couple blocks up. When a few hours had passed and her mother wasn't home yet, Barb called Patty to check in on her mother. Patty said that Mrs. Shane had never come over. It was then that Barb called the police and run outside to search for her mother. Nothing else, nothing unusual. It was just another seemingly random kidnapping, or killing, or whatever it was. The boys thanked Barb for her time and went back outside.

"We are officially getting nowhere," Sam complained as they climbed back into the Impala. "There don't seem to be any connections whatsoever aside from that church."

"So maybe it's time to go poke around the church," Dean replied. "Six o'clock. No one should be there."

They drove across town to St. Matthew's and walked into the building. It was quaint, with old wooden pews, faded purple carpet, and the smell of old books. Nothing menacing, nothing unusual. Sam knocked on the door of the rectory, but apparently no one was around.

"I don't know, man. Call it a day? I'm starving," Dean said gruffly. Sam sighed and nodded.

"Want to order a pizza and try calling Billy?" Sam asked.

"Actually, I was thinking we could head back to that bar from yesterday. Millie's. See if there's a different crowd there that we can talk to."

"Mm hmm," Sam replied, probably seeing right through Dean's excuse, but not saying anything.

They drove to the bar and were greeted again at their table by Lisa, the same waitress from the night before.

"Hey guys! Back so soon?" she asked with a flirty smile.

"Yeah, those burgers were excellent," Dean chimed in.

"Hey Lisa," Sam interjected, barely concealing a smug grin. "Will that girl be in again playing her guitar tonight?" Dean kicked him under the table.

"Not tonight. She's good though, isn't she? Two beers again?" Sam nodded and Lisa walked away.

"Dude, you have no chill at all," Dean grumbled and Sam laughed.

Instead of ordering food, they spent the next hour or so meandering around the bar, asking the locals if they had any tips or suspicions regarding the disappearances. Some people brushed them off out of annoyance. Others were eager to talk to anyone who would listen, but they got no useful information. They were just about to give up for the night, when a streak of red and blue lights zoomed down the street outside. A police car, followed by another, and then a third.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, and stood up without having to say anything. Dean dropped some cash on the table and they hurried to the Impala. Three cop cars blazing down the street was more of a lead than anything they'd had all day.

Dean pulled out into the road and accelerated quickly. The trick to following police cars is to keep up just enough to not be seen. It was an art that he hadn't quite mastered, but they seemed to be getting lucky tonight. They ended up at an old barn on the outskirts of the town. The three police cars were parked right up next to the building, so Dean pulled the Impala far back off the side of the road. They approached closer to the barn through the trees fifty yards away and stood stock still to try to hear anything that was being said. What they did hear was the sound of a gun cocking right behind them.

Dean froze, and looked out of the corner of his eye to see Sam frozen as well. Whoever was holding the gun was smart. If he would have just put it up to Dean's head, Dean would have a chance of disarming him. Standing back the way he was, gave him a time advantage if Dean decided to turn around.

"Don't move," came a woman's voice. _Okay, 'she,' not 'he,'_ Dean thought. He could hear footsteps lightly crunching the leaves on the ground as the woman walked around them to see their faces. Dean's jaw dropped when he saw who it was.

Beth. From the bar.

"Sam and Dean Winchester? Well, damn."


	3. Chapter 3

_"Sam and Dean Winchester? Well, damn."_

Dean's mind was racing a mile a minute. _"Why is she here? What's going on in that barn? Why does she have a gun? Those jeans and boots are hot on her._ No, not that last one.

"When you requested that song for Dean in the bar, I thought for a second, 'could that mean Dean _Winchester?_ But I ruled it out, figuring there was no way you boys would be in Three Rivers, working the same little case as me."

"Wait, you're a hunter?" Dean asked, shocked.

"I guess so," she replied, still pointing the gun at them.

"And you've heard of us?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I've heard of you," Beth said, lowering the gun slowly and smiling a smile that was much too sweet for the current situation. "I heard you boys stopped the apocalypse a few years back."

Sensing a trap, Sam kept his mouth shut and raised an eyebrow. Dean, on the other hand, took the bait hook, line, and sinker.

"Well, you heard right," he said smoothly. "All in a day's work. Just trying to do our jo-"

"I also heard you were the ones who started it," Beth interrupted, deadpan.

Dean's mouth snapped shut, and Sam could see the muscles moving in his jaw as he ground his teeth.

"Well, that was, uh… Nothing we could do… It was…"

"That was my fault," Sam cut in quietly. Beth turned her gaze to him instead, warm brown eyes unreadable. "I trusted the wrong person, and she betrayed me." Beth looked at him in silence for a moment, and then nodded slowly.

"She? Yeah, I can understand that. You hook up with the wrong person in this line of work, it can kill you."

Sam looked down at the ground, and Dean pondered whether to try to rush her or not. She wasn't pointing the gun at them anymore, but it was still cocked and dangerous.

"Stop trying to decide whether to tackle me, Dean," she smiled. "We're on the same team here. I'm Beth, it's nice to officially meet you," she approached, reaching her hand out. Dean shook it, eyeing her apprehensively. He could hear the sounds of more sirens approaching.

"As you can see," Beth continued, "I've already taken care of this one." She gestured to the barn behind them, as two ambulances trundled down the road and pulled up next to the police cars.

"Wait, took care of it?" Sam asked. "How so?"

"I've been here about four days now, staking out the town. Found out it was just one solo vampire, picking off individuals as he could. Tracked him to this barn. Blow dart with dead man's blood and then…" She made a slicing gesture over her throat.

"So wait, did you see any of the victims in the barn?" Sam pressed.

"Yep, all four of them. Three were definitely dead already. One, I wasn't sure. That's why I called the cops. I don't have much medical training."

"You brought the cops into it?" Dean asked, incredulous.

"Yes, Dean. I just told you, I didn't think I could help that lady. Her heart was barely beating. Best if at least one survives, right? Besides, now that the vamp is dead, they might as well know the truth about the other victims as well. Only way to move on."

She looked back at the barn, features lit up mostly by the flashing red and blue lights in the distance, face etched in sadness. Dean wondered how old she was. Thirty? She seemed to be carrying a surprising amount of the weight of the world for her age. But he and Sam knew all about that.

"Well, it was nice meeting you boys. Good luck with whatever hunts come your way." She turned and started walking back towards the woods.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on there," Dean interjected. "How do we know you actually know what you're doing? You sure that vampire is dead?"

"Is dead man's blood and decapitation not enough? Do I need to burn the body too, and drench the ashes in holy water or something?" she asked, sarcastically. "Yes, I know what I'm doing."

"And you're sure it was just one vamp, working solo?" Sam asked. Beth rolled her eyes at him. "I'm sorry, we just… Have to make sure. Wouldn't be doing our jobs if we didn't."

"Like I said, I've been here for four days now, tracking and monitoring the situation. There's no evidence of any others. But if you boys want to stick around some more to make sure, by all means. I won't try to stop you. But I'm moving on." Sam and Dean exchanged glances.

"Another case?" Sam asked.

"Something like that," Beth replied. "Maybe I'll run into you guys again someday."

Dean nodded, explaining away the sadness in the pit of his stomach as mourning for the three (maybe four) dead people in the barn behind him. He knew it was best for them to split up. He and Sam worked best alone. They watched as she disappeared deeper into the tree line.

"So what do you think?" Sam asked. "Stick around for another day to poke around, make sure there aren't any others?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Dean sighed. "She seemed to know what she was talking about, but we can't be sure. Tell you what though, it's not often we show up to a monster fight and aren't needed."

"Well, the monster fight had already happened, Dean."

They walked back to the Impala in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Sam was thinking about Ruby, and how Beth had seemed to relate to trusting the wrong person. Dean was thinking about Beth and vampires, and torn between trying to imagine her killing one, and not wanting to know what it would have looked like.

"Hey, wanna get some pizza?" he asked eventually. "We never ordered food at Millie's." There was no reason to go back there now.

Dean dreamed a lot that night. He dreamt of Lisa, who was playing the guitar (something she never did in real life). After a while, she wasn't Lisa anymore; she was Beth, wearing plastic vampire fangs. Dean tossed and turned for most of the night, until he was woken in the early morning by the sound of his phone ringing.

"What the hell," he grumbled, reaching for the phone on the night table. The caller ID told him it was Billy.

"Hey Billy."

"Hey Dean, how's the case going?"

"It's a little early for a status report, isn't it?" Dean mumbled.

"What was that?" Billy asked.

"Nothing. Case went fine, far as I know. There was already another hunter here. She thinks it was just a solo vamp, took off his head last night and booked town I think."

"Listen, Dean…" Billy paused, sounding… guilty? "I may not have been completely honest with you when I called the other day." There was an awkward pause.

"About what, Billy? You told us there was a case here. You were right. Someone else just got to it first."

"That someone… Wouldn't by any chance be a pretty dark-haired girl named Beth, would it?"

"Yes…"

"Well, uh, she's my niece. Only reason I knew there was something going on in Three Rivers was because she told me she was heading there. She hasn't been doing this on her own for very long, so I worried about her. That's why I called you boys. Hoped you'd be able to lend her a hand in case things got bad." Dean sighed.

"It's all right, Billy. I can understand that. No blood, no foul. And when we saw Beth, she was doing just fine."

"That's the thing, Dean… I think she was lying about it being a vampire." Dean straightened up.

"And why do you think that?"

"She's been acting strange lately. Jumping around over the country, never standing still. I feel like she's searching for something, but she won't tell me what. It's not like her. Always been open with me. Not now, not anymore. I think something bigger is going on here."

"So what, you want me to go after her or something? On your hunch?"

"Tell me this, Dean. Did you actually _see_ a vampire? Did you see any of the victims?" Dean paused. Billy was right. He should have been pushier about seeing the aftermath of whatever Beth had done.

"No, I didn't. She described what she did to it, and I just…"

"You believed her." Dean didn't respond. "Look, Dean. I'm asking you for a favor. I know we don't know each other very well, but I was close to Bobby, and I know you were too. Would you at least just try to see those bodies?"

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the headache that was threatening to appear. He was irritated at Billy for lying about something like this, but knew that he was right. It had been irresponsible of Sam and Dean to not ensure that the vampire was definitely dead, and to make sure there was no evidence of any others. He blamed himself for letting his guard down for a pair of pretty brown eyes.

"Okay, Billy. We'll look into it. No promises that we'll go after her though!"

"That's all I can ask. Thanks, Dean." Dean looked over at his sleeping brother, and shook him awake.

"Up and at 'em, Sammy. We got work to do today."

"What? What time is it?"

"Almost seven," Dean replied. "I just had a call from Billy."

"What about?" Sam asked, sitting up and stretching. Dean spent the next few minutes recapping what they had talked about.

"I don't know, Dean. I mean, yeah, we can try to get into the morgue today… Probably a good idea to follow up there. But I don't want to get trapped into chasing after some girl just because a friend of Bobby's is worried about nothing."

"I know, I know. And I agree with you. Best case scenario? We go to the morgue, see that the damage was definitely done by a vamp, maybe talk to the police about the vamp's body, and book it out of here. Case closed, nothing more."

"And what's the worst case scenario?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dean didn't answer. He didn't know.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam and Dean cleaned up and dawned their suits, once again bringing the fake FBI badges with them. The morgue was attached to the police station, so they would have to enter through there to get to it. That was fine by Dean. They could kill two birds with one stone and ask about the vamp's body. They were greeted at the reception desk by a plump, middle-aged woman.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" she asked politely.

"Hi ma'am, we're agents Wells and Billings, FBI. Is the officer leading the case of the recent disappearances available?" Sam asked, as they flashed their badges.

"Yes, that's Officer Sanchez. He'll probably be glad you're here. Just a moment." She stood up and disappeared into a back room, and returned a few moments later with a dark-skinned man who had pronounced bags under his eyes.

"Agents, I'm Officer Sanchez. How much do you know about the case?" Dean stood silently as Sam recapped what they knew about the victims and the barn, obviously skirting around the whole "vampire" thing.

"So you're pretty much up to speed, although we can't figure out who or what did this to those poor people."

"Who or _what?_ " Dean asked, trying to sound surprised.

"Yeah…" the officer continued. "The victims have some pretty gruesome-looking injuries. We can go take a look, if you'd like to."

"We probably should," Dean replied. "But you said there was no sign of what did this to them?"

"No, not a thing. Honestly, I can't quite even tell you why they died. There's no obvious cause of death. This way," he said, gesturing to a hallway that Dean supposed lead to the morgue.

Something wasn't right. If Beth had decapitated the vampire, but hadn't burned its body, then where was it? She had made it seem like it had happened in the barn, so wouldn't the police have found it there? And how on earth was there no obvious cause of death? No blood loss, no wounds? They were getting more questions than answers. He exchanged an uneasy look with Sam as they followed Officer Sanchez to the morgue.

"We can't seem to identify any connections between the victims, other than that they all belonged to the same church," Sanchez proceeded. "We've interviewed the pastor, other parishioners, and the victim's families. Can't seem to come up with any leads."

"We had heard that one of the four might be alive. Did she…"

"Alive? No, sorry. They had all been dead for a while when we got to that barn."

"And you knew to go to the barn because of an anonymous tip?"

"That's right. Girl's voice on the phone, untraceable number."

"Is she a suspect?" Dean asked, not sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Sure, just as much as anyone else. Like I said, we don't have any leads."

Sanchez turned and opened a drawer, pulling out the first of four bodies. He pulled back the sheet covering it, and Dean had to pause for a moment to process what he was seeing. The body looked perfectly normal, except for the eyes. Which weren't there at all. In their place, was just burned, empty flesh. Dean looked up at Sam, who had the same alarmed look on his face as Dean surely did. Sanchez, misinterpreting their alarm with fear, chimed in.

"Quite the sight, isn't it? They all look like that."

"And, and no other injuries, right?" Sam asked.

"Nothing we could see. It all looks normal."

Sam took a moment to examine the skin for any bites, punctures, scratches… anything at all. But it was all perfectly fine. Sanchez pulled out the next victim, then the next, and the fourth. All identical. No injuries, apart from eyes that had apparently been burned out of their skulls. When Sanchez wasn't looking, Dean snapped a picture of the last one, the old lady, with his cell phone.

"Thanks for your time, Officer," Sam said after a while. "We're going to keep digging, and will let you know what we find out."

"You do that," he responded, shaking both of their hands. The boys headed back to the car.

"That did not look like anything a vampire would have done," Dean said, angrily.

"No, you know what it did look like?" Sam asked. "What happened to Pamela when she tried to look at Cas when he wasn't in a vessel."

"Bingo," Dean responded. "Let's head back to the motel. We should call Cas, see what he's up to."

Sam agreed, and they made the drive back to the motel. A short time later, they had both changed back into street clothes and Dean pulled out his phone.

"Cas?"

"Hello, Dean."

"What are you up to?"

"I'm outside of Tuscaloosa. I came to investigate some strange signs."

"Well, that's very specific. Are you still busy? Can you come here?"

"Where is here?" Cas asked.

"The Birch Branch Motel. Three Rivers, Michigan. Room 123."

There was a light whoosh of wind, and Cas appeared in the room, looking as he always did. Slightly ruffled dark hair, trench coat, loosely-done tie.

"Great service, ten out of ten," Dean said with a chuckle. Sam smirked.

"Hey Cas, how've you been?"

"Fine, Sam, thank you for asking. What did you call me here for?"

"Take a look at this," Dean said, holding out the picture on his phone for the angel to see. "What do you think?" Cas took the phone, and only had to look at it for a moment.

"Without investigating the body myself, I would assume that was caused by another angel," he said, handing the phone back to Dean.

"That's what we thought too," Sam said. "Is there any way for us to be sure of that, or to find out which angel?"

"Is that body in a morgue?" Castiel responded.

"Yes, we were just there a little while ago. Can't really go back right away."

"I'll go," Cas said, and abruptly disappeared, leaving nothing but a short breeze in his place.

"Cas! Ugh, so now we just wait?" Dean asked in irritation.

"Guess so," Sam responded. "Give the guy a break, Dean. He did just drop everything to see what we needed."

"Yeah, what does he even do, though?" Dean muttered. Sam just smiled and shook his head.

They waited in silence for Cas to return. Dean felt frustrated with this case, and with himself. Something that had started out as a simple rogue vampire had now turned into something much bigger. Potentially cosmic. If angels were involved, you never knew what to expect. After a few minutes of irritated brooding, there was a ruffle of air and Cas appeared.

"It was the doing of an angel," he said in his gravelly voice. "But I cannot tell who. There was no trace of his or her grace left on the victims."

"Do you know _why_ an angel might hurt those people?" Sam asked. "They all went to the same church, if that has anything to do with it."

"I don't know," Cas replied simply. "Perhaps a smiting commanded from a higher authority? But if I was ordered to smite someone, I wouldn't do it by showing them my true form. Too messy, and it's much easier to touch the forehead and use my grace."

"So we're at another dead end?" Dean asked, trying to conceal his anger.

"Maybe not…" Castiel replied slowly. "Is there any other place that you know of where the angel may have been? May have used his or her powers?"

"The barn," Sam and Dean said simultaneously, looking at each other.

"We probably should have checked it out already," Dean said. "But right after we got back from the morgue, we called you."

"Take me there," Cas responded.

They opted to make the short drive across town, rather than having Cas teleport them. Without having any way of knowing who they were up against, it was best to save his strength. Dean turned the keys in the ignition, and the Lynyrd Skynyrd tape started playing. He jammed the power button with his finger, a little more aggressively than was necessary, and they rode to the barn in silence.

When they arrived, the place was quiet. There were no police cars or ambulances anymore, but there was crime scene tape hung across the entrance. Sam led the way to the entrance, opening the barn door and ducking under the tape. Dean and Castiel followed suit.

Dean first noticed the smell of rotting flesh. Apparently, whatever had done this (Dean was still slow to admit that it was an angel, rather than a vampire or something easier to deal with) had needed a place to leave the bodies of its victims, and had chosen the barn for its remoteness. It was dark, musty, and had straw scattered across most of the floor. There was also a faint smell in the air, masked by the stench of decomposition… Was it… wood burning?

"Holy fire," Cas said simply.

"What?" Dean asked. "Where?"

Cas pointed to the center of the barn, where the layer of straw on the ground was the thickest. Suddenly, a strong wind blew directly onto the spot, uncovering a scorched ring in the wood floor.

"Someone summoned an angel and trapped him in holy fire," Cas continued. "I do not know how he escaped, but there are ways." Sam and Dean exchanged another glance. Dean didn't want to admit it, but the evidence was pointing at Beth. He mentally kicked himself again for not checking the barn last night after she left. But what good would it have done then anyway? She could have gone anywhere, and he wasn't exactly about to tie her to a chair and make her wait in the motel while he and Sam investigated.

"We should have gotten her phone number," Sam said quietly after a moment.

"She probably didn't want us to have it," Dean replied. "Maybe that's why she booked it so fast."

"Who?" Cas asked, out of the loop. Dean shook his head, so Sam told the story.

"We got a tip to come here from an old friend of Bobby's. Said there were vampires. But by the time we got here, another hunter had already taken care of the problem. She told us that it was just a solo vamp, and she had killed it. She booked it out of town immediately, so by the time we realized that it wasn't actually a vampire…"

"You have no idea where she is," Cas said. A statement, not a question.

"Gone like a fart in the wind," Dean said gruffly.

"Grow up," Sam scoffed.

"I could try to track her I suppose, if you have something that she touched."

"I don't think we do," Sam responded. Just then, Dean's phone began to ring. He took a few steps away from Sam and Cas, who were bouncing ideas off of each other trying to figure out how to track Beth.

"Hello?" Dean asked. He didn't recognize the number.

"Dean, it's Billy." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Billy."

"Found anything yet?"

"Well, we examined the bodies, and you're right. Doesn't look like a vampire attack."

"What does it look like?" Dean glanced over at Cas and Sam and decided not to tell Billy their theory just yet.

"We don't know yet. We were thinking about trying to track it, or trying to track Beth, but we don't know where to find her. Guessing she didn't tell you where she was heading?"

"No, she didn't-"

"Damn. Another dead end."

"You didn't let me finish. I think I know where she's going."

"How?"

"She doesn't think I know how to track the GPS in her cell, but I do. She's in Tuscaloosa."

"Tuscaloosa?" Where had he just heard someone talking about that town? Is that where Cas had just come from? Maybe they were investigating the same thing! "You there, Dean?"

"Yeah, sorry, I'm here."

"So will ya' go after her?" Dean sighed.

"I don't think we have a choice."

He hung up with Billy a few moments later, to see Sam and Castiel still bickering about how to track Beth.

"If you two chuckleheads would stop arguing like an old married couple, I can tell you where Beth is." They both stopped and looked at him.

"And where's that?"

"Cas, what exactly was it that you were investigating in Tuscaloosa?"


	5. Chapter 5

_"Cas, what was it that you were investigating in Tuscaloosa?"_

Castiel cocked his head and looked over at Dean.

"I heard on angel radio that there had been some people missing, and that somehow, the angels were involved. I didn't know in what way, so I went to investigate. There was a warehouse that I could not enter. It was heavily warded. That was when you called."

"Can you take us there now?" Dean asked.

"I don't know if that would be wise," Cas responded. "We don't know yet what is going on there. I may need to save my strength."

"We need to get there quick, Cas," Dean retorted, getting annoyed. "It would take, what? Ten, twelve hours to get to Alabama from here? Beth could be long gone by then. Or something worse could happen to her." Castiel's brow furrowed.

"I suppose you're right."

They drove back to the motel and grabbed their things. It only took the boys about 2 minutes to pack up everything they had brought into the room. Will duffels full, they walked quickly back to the Impala where Cas was waiting in the back seat.

"Ready?" he asked in his deep voice.

"Yep," Dean responded as Sam nodded.

Cas closed his eyes and reached forward to put a hand on each of the boys' shoulders. Dean felt the slightest tingling sensation, and when he opened his eyes, they were in a completely different environment. Instead of the cloudy, gray afternoon in the motel parking lot in Three Rivers, the Impala was now parked in a field under a bright, blue sky, sunny Alabama day.

"Slick. But why are we in the middle of a field?" Dean turned back to look at Cas, whose face was pale and shoulders were slumped.

"You okay, Cas?" Sam asked, seeing the same thing Dean saw.

"Yes, I'm fine. It's just a bit draining to move two humans and a car across the country. We're in this field, Dean, because this is as close to that warehouse as I could bring us," Cas replied, pointing to an old brown building a few hundred yards to their right. "That is the building that is warded against angels."

"All right, we'll check it out. You stay here."

The three of them climbed out of the Impala, and Dean opened the trunk. They pulled out a few weapons as Cas watched.

"Those will not be effective against an angel," he said simply, gesturing to Dean's pistol.

"I know that, Cas. But unless you want to lend me your angel blade, I at least need something to slow them down." Cas watched as Dean and Sam made sure their weapons were loaded, and then pulled out his angel blade.

"You may take it," he said, handing it to Dean.

"You… you're sure?"

"Yes, Dean. I can't help you in there. If you get in, scratch through a few of the sigils. Then I should be able to enter."

"Okay then," Dean responded, taking the angel blade and glancing at Sam. "Thanks, Cas. We'll see you in a minute. Ready Sammy?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Dean glanced back at Cas who was standing next to the impala, a concerned look on his face. He and Sam trudged through the yard-high grass toward the building. It didn't look like much. Maybe the kind of place a farmer would store his equipment, or a town would store its rock salt. By the looks of it, it hadn't been used for anything official in years.

"No windows," Sam murmured uneasily. "Want to check for other exits?" Dean nodded, and they split up, Sam going left around the building, Dean going right. It was a flat expanse of wall around the side, and all the way to the back, where he met Sam.

"So just the one door, and the bay door next to it," Dean stated. Sam nodded. They crept back to the front of the building, where Dean gingerly tried the door handle. Locked. He pulled his lock-picking tool from his pocket and got to work as Sam provided cover. In the midday sun, it felt as though someone could show up at any time. There was a satisfying little _click_ , and Dean turned the door handle.

At first, all he could see was darkness as his eyes adjusted. Then, faint white drawings became visible. They were all over the floor and walls, even some creeping up onto the ceiling. It reminded him of the barn that he and Bobby had painted up when they summoned Cas for the first time. Sam found a light switch, and the whole room was illuminated.

Other than the white sigils painted over the brown floor and walls, there wasn't much else to see. There was a little cot set up in the corner, with some blankets rumpled at its foot. A black suitcase, spilling open with clothing sat near it. There was a guitar case propped against the wall in the corner.

"Beth," Dean muttered, as he and Sam took a moment to make sure there were no hiding places in the room. It was a short job, there was nowhere to hide. Just a big, open space. "She was definitely here."

"Mm hmm," Sam agreed. "Looks like she may have been using this as her base."

Dean looked down at the floor and scuffed a few of the sigils up with the toe of his boot. Sam did the same, and Cas appeared in their midst.

"Is everything all right?" he asked.

"Yep. Looks like she was here, all right," Dean responded. "But she's either out and about, or she's already booked town."

Sam opened the guitar case. Empty. Dean approached her suitcase and rifled through it. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. Some idea of where she had gone, maybe? That didn't seem like a good excuse. He pushed aside denim and cotton, and felt something hard at the bottom of the bag. He pulled out a bracelet, with an anti-possession charm hanging from it. Dean wondered why she wasn't wearing it now. Better safe than sorry. Unless she had gotten a tattoo like he and Sam had… And then Dean found his mind wandering. Without really thinking about it, he slipped the bracelet into his pocket.

"So now what?" Sam asked. "Wait for her to turn back up?"

"I don't know…" Dean hesitated. "What if she books it again? We could be waiting around and she could be on the road."

"So maybe we split up," Sam responded. "Cas could stay here and call us if she comes back. You and I can scout out the town."

"What do you think, Cas?" Dean asked.

"I can remain here, invisible, and let you know if she returns," he said simply. "But where will you look?"

"Her guitar's not in the case," Dean replied. "That might mean she's at another bar or something, trying to make tips."

"A bar in the middle of the day? Not the best money-making opportunity," Sam countered.

"So where do you suggest we start, Sherlock?" Dean retorted, his irritation building.

"Somewhere people go during the daytime. A park or a coffee shop maybe."

Dean grunted, not wanting to admit Sam was right.

"You be careful, Cas. Try to rest up a little, okay?"

"I will be fine," Castiel responded. Dean nodded, and the boys walked out of the barn, back towards the car.

"Well, she definitely seems to know about angels," Sam said, stating the obvious. "But I wonder why she felt the need to ward against them. Why would an angel be after her?"

"Beats me," Dean said. "But if she really is being chased by an angel, don't you think she would hunker down in there, rather than strutting around town?"

"Unless she has some kind of warding on her?" Sam asked. Again, more questions than answers.

Dean drove around while Sam navigated. They started working through the local coffee houses, and then to a couple public parks. They even drove through the more crowded streets in town, to make sure she wasn't playing on a street corner. After several hours, they still had nothing.

"I don't know, Sam," Dean grumbled. "Want to get something to eat, and then check in with Cas?"

"I guess so," Sam sighed, sounding defeated.

They pulled into the parking lot of some little hole in the wall. There was a sign outside announcing happy hour from 4-6.

"Good timing," Dean said, glancing at the clock. It was just after four.

They walked into the restaurant and immediately saw the same thing. A dark-haired girl sitting in the corner, strumming a guitar and singing. Dean's heart skipped a beat.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Sam laughed. Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him into a corner, where they would be mostly obscured from Beth's view because of a divider wall.

"I don't think she saw us," he whispered to Sam.

"So what do you want to do? Wait until her set is over? Or confront her now?"

"Try to find out how long she's playing," Dean replied. Sam nodded, and looked around for a member of the wait staff.

 _"You're holding so tight, to the hope that you might be free someday,"_ Beth crooned away. Dean stared at her intently, and told himself that it was because he needed to make sure she didn't slip out the back door. The song she was playing sounded a little country, but fit perfectly with the atmosphere of the restaurant. And Dean couldn't help but catch wind of the lyrics.

 _"When you're reaching for something to trust, you're reaching for something to trust. Well, you're told to believe, and it's hard to conceive, but you feel that you must. So you start turning everything off, you start turning everything off. You forget who you are, as your heart gets hard and your guts go soft."_

Dean felt an unpleasant kind of aching in his chest. He told himself if it was because he was anxious about the case.

"She's playing through happy hour," Sam said as he approached, snapping Dean out of his reverie. "Here until six. Want to wait outside or just ask for a table behind that wall and order some food?"

"Yeah, let's do that," Dean responded. "I'm starving, and that way, we can keep an eye on her."

Sam nodded and asked for a table. The hostess led them to a corner table where Beth would not be able to see them. The downside was that they couldn't see her either, but Dean figured they could at least hear her playing, to know if she was still there or not. They went through the motions of ordering food and beers, and Dean sent a text to Cas to let him know they were on her trail. After an hour or so of Beth's covers of Led Zeppelin, Asia, and another band or two he didn't recognize, Dean's phone rang. It was Billy. He rolled his eyes as he answered.

"Hey Billy."

"Dean, she's on the move again."

"What? No she isn't. Sam and I are sitting in a bar listening to her play her guitar," he almost yelled into the phone, over Supertramp's _Goodbye Stranger._

"All I can tell you is that I'm tracking her GPS, and her phone is on the highway going west."

Dean shot up out of his seat and looked in the direction of the corner of the room where Beth had been performing. There was nothing there but a chair with a stereo sitting on it.

"Son of a bitch," Dean growled, looking around for an employee. Sam had stood up to see what Dean was looking at, and his eyes widened. "Hey! What happened to the girl who was playing her guitar?" he half shouted at a passing waitress.

"I don't know," she responded with equal rudeness. "Said something about a family emergency, and asked if we could play her CD until she got back. But that was an hour ago. Doubt she's coming back."

"Come on, Sam," Dean said gruffly, walking quickly toward the door. They strode towards the Impala and slammed the doors. "Billy says she's heading west."

"Wait, wait. We're going after her?" Sam asked.

"Yes, Sam. Whatever she's into, she's in over her head and needs help."

"I know, Dean. What I mean is, she has an hour head start, and is probably flying. It would be easier for Cas to catch her than us, providing he's up for it. She left plenty of things that she touched in that warehouse."

Dean pondered that for a moment, then pulled a sudden u-turn, causing Sam to grumble a few expletives under his breath. A few minutes later, they were pulling up to the warehouse. The boys stormed in to what was apparently an empty space.

"Cas?" Dean growled into the room, flicking on the light. The angel appeared out of nowhere in the center of the room.

"Sam? Dean, what happened?"

"She's on the run again. We need you to go get her. Are you up for it?"

"I…" Cas hesitated, but looked from Sam's eyes to Dean's, and then nodded. "Yes, I can track her."

Dean tossed him the anti-possession bracelet that was burning a hole in his pocket.

"That should work as well as anything."

Cas nodded and disappeared. This time, it was only a few moments before he returned. He was supporting an unconscious Beth. Sam ran forward to help him carry her to the bed in the corner.

"All right, boys," Dean said. "Ready to wake her up?"


	6. Chapter 6

"Before we do that, we should restrain her," Sam said evenly.

"Restrain her? Are you kidding me?" Dean asked in surprise. "Do you think one chick can take on the two of us, plus an angel?"

"Dean, she's already proved that she can outsmart us. Might as well be cautious where possible," Sam said, pulling some rope out of the weapons duffel. "Cas, can you find us a chair?"

Cas rolled his eyes at the request, but disappeared and reappeared a moment later with a sturdy-looking metal chair. Sam scooped Beth up easily, and set her gently onto the chair. Dean tried to pretend that he didn't feel a spark of jealousy as Sam went to work trying Beth's legs and hands to the chair.

"All right, wake her up."

Cas stepped forward and put a finger onto Beth's forehead. Dean watched as her shoulders stiffened and her breathing sped up. Her legs and arms strained against the ropes for a moment before her head snapped up, brown eyes wide with fear.

"Uh, hey Beth," Sam said sheepishly. "Sorry about all this."

"Sam?" she asked, still looking alarmed, but no longer panicking. "What..? How..?"

"I told him we didn't have to tie you up," Dean interjected. "But he's all for playing it safe."

"Why _am_ I tied up? Worried you couldn't take on a girl?"

"It's just a precaution," Sam said gently, trying to make peace. "We'll untie you once we've had a chance to talk."

"How am I here? I was just in my car, driving, and then _poof_ I'm sitting tied up in this chair, an hour away from where I was."

"That would be him," Dean said, gesturing to Cas who stepped forward slightly.

"And who is _him_?"

"He's an angel, Beth," Sam said quietly.

Her eyes widened and her breathing quickened. Brown eyes darted from Cas, to Sam, to Dean.

"He's an angel? And you work _with_ him?" Dean took her tone for shock.

"Yes. He's our best friend. He's our brother." The corner of Cas's mouth twitched upwards slightly.

"Oh, thank God," Beth said, tears welling up in her eyes as she smiled and looked toward the ceiling. Her face was etched in intense relief.

"Nope, his name's Cas," Dean said with a smirk. He couldn't resist.

"So, wait," Sam interjected. "You believe us?" Beth looked at Sam, still smiling.

"Of course I believe you! Wings over there just beamed me here straight out of my car… Oh no…" Her smile wavered. "What happened to my car?" she asked, now looking at Cas.

"Umm, it's probably in a ditch," Cas responded with the slightest trace of guilt in his voice. "I can retrieve it for you later."

"Later?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He's been beaming us around all day. Needs a little break," Dean interjected.

"Beth, how do you know about angels? What's with all the warding?" Sam interjected. Her smile disappeared completely.

"It's just… a precaution. I'm sure you two are warded up all the time."

"Permanently, in fact," Dean said with a slight chuckle, thinking of the Enochian on his and Sam's ribs and the tattoos on their chests.

"So there you go. Normal stuff."

"No, no," Dean retorted, gesturing to the warding covering the entire warehouse. "This is not normal. Do you have an angel after you?"

Beth looked into his eyes, as if trying to make a decision. To trust or not to trust. Dean realized if he wanted her to trust him (and he did, badly), then he would have to show a little trust in her too. He pulled out his knife and walked up to her chair. She eyed the blade apprehensively, and Sam took the slightest step forward. Dean leaned over her and sliced through the ropes at her wrists and ankles, praying she wasn't about to attack him. She smelled like vanilla.

"Let's try this again," he said stepping back. "Beth, if you have an angel after you, you need to tell us. We've dealt with them before. We have Cas. We can help you."

"I… I'm not sure you can," she said sadly. "This angel… He's not normal. Something is wrong with him."

" _Wrong_ with him? What do you mean?" Beth sighed.

"Do you remember a few years back, when the angels fell?"

"Yes," Sam responded, glancing at Cas.

"I was staying at my uncle's-"

"Billy?" Dean interrupted.

"How did you… Oh, he is in so much trouble. Do you know him?" she asked.

"Billy is a friend of a friend," Dean replied. "He called us and told us he was worried about you. Asked us to check in on you."

"I should have known," Beth responded, looking annoyed. "Thought I was getting sloppy, but it wasn't me, it was him. Yes, I was living with my Uncle Billy. He's been a hunter for as long as I can remember, but I only got into the game after the angels fell. You see, he was kind of casually teaching me how to identify and kill monsters, not because I was ever really planning on hunting, but because he thought it would be good for me to know the basics, and I was interested. One day, we were outside throwing knives, and saw a meteor fall right out of the sky, and more off in the distance. We grabbed a couple weapons and went to investigate. Sitting in the middle of this big crater, was a guy. There was nothing unusual about him, except that he was lost and confused, and sitting in the middle of the crater.

"He couldn't remember where he had come from, what his name was, any of it. We felt like we couldn't just leave him in the middle of the field, so we took him back to the house. We basically took him in. Gave him a bed, clothes, food… We tried memory exercises to help him remember who he was, but nothing. That went on for about three days, and we were planning on taking him to the hospital. But then Billy found out from a hunter friend that the angels had fallen. And all of a sudden, we couldn't take him to the hospital. I started calling him Jimmy, because he reminded me a little of a young Jimmy Page. With shorter hair."

"Who's Jimmy Page?" Sam asked.

"Dude, seriously? Led Zeppelin?" Dean interrupted. Sam rolled his eyes but Beth smiled a little.

"Anyway, he seemed nice enough, so we decided to take care of him until Billy could get more information about the other fallen angels. He made calls and took a couple short road trips to other 'crash sites' nearby, to see if there was evidence of anyone else. Meanwhile, Jimmy was my responsibility. I took care of him, made sure he didn't wander off and get lost. Taught him a little about the world we live in. We were friends, spent about a year together.

"Then one day, when Billy was on a hunting trip, things got weird. A bunch of lightbulbs exploded, the TV kept turning on to static, and there was this intense loud sound. It hurt my ears, but Jimmy just stood there, looking around, listening. I swear, his eyes glowed blue for a moment, and then he remembered."

"Remembered what?" Sam asked gently.

"That he was an Angel of the Lord. And he was pissed. He felt that I had… well, let's just keep it simple. He was angry at me. Furious. Felt that I needed a good smiting. He tried to kill me, but since we had heard that the angels had fallen, we had been practicing the Enochian symbols for warding and banishment, just in case. There was literally one lying on a piece of paper on the kitchen table. It saved my life. Grabbed a knife, sliced my palm, and threw him the hell out of the house.

"He knew where we lived now, and I had to assume he would come for me. Grabbed anything that was valuable or… incriminating of our hunting lifestyle, and ran. Called Billy, told him what happened and that we needed to find another place to live. He's staying with a friend in Arkansas. I've been trying to track Jimmy. That's what brought me to Tuscaloosa. Before that, it was Detroit, before that, it was some little town in Arizona… It's been going on for a while now. I never seem to get there in time. He killed those people in Three Rivers. He's killed plenty of others. I… I have to stop him."

Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. They hadn't dealt with a psycho angel before. Well, plenty of angels were kind of crazy, or self-righteous, or delusional… But going on a human-killing spree for almost two years? For no reason?

"Beth, you don't know why he's doing this?" Sam asked.

"Not really. I have a theory that he's looking for his true vessel, but doesn't care how many vessels he destroys in the process. That's why the victims sometimes tend to be in religious groups. They still have to invite him in."

"Wow," Dean whispered, shaking his head. "What do you think, Cas? Heard of someone like this?"

"There are still many angels who are… M.I.A. since the Falling," Castiel replied. "We think many have tried to live quiet lives on Earth. Some have had more trouble than others finding a vessel. We assumed that some had perished, or lost their grace. There is no way to track the whereabouts of each and every angel."

"How have you been tracking Jimmy?" Dean asked.

"Mostly the same way I track any other case. Look for reports of people dying, eyes burned out, no known cause of death. I can never predict how long it will take before it happens again. Sometimes it's a week. Sometimes it's a couple months. I think it depends on how long the vessels that he finds hold up. I've tried to stay mobile. Take on other hunting cases as I hear of them. Play my guitar in bars for food and gas money. Although my guitar is also in my car," she said, narrowing her eyes at Cas, who looked exasperated.

"So you told us it was a vampire in Three Rivers to get us off your tail?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I was hoping you'd think it was a simple case and drop it. I'm guessing you probably would have, if it wasn't for Billy."

"You're probably right," Dean muttered.

"This is all well and good, glad we're all on speaking terms," Sam interrupted. "But what do we do now?" He looked at Dean.

"Cas, keep an eye on her for a second. I want to talk to my brother," Dean said. He headed toward the door and Sam followed.

"So what do you think?" Dean asked. "We can't really split up. We're going to be hunting the same thing. And like I said before, she's in way over her head."

"I don't know, Dean. She seems to be handling herself pretty well. Probably would have slipped right through our fingers if it wasn't for Cas."

"I mean, sure, she's staying alive… But this guy's been on almost a two-year killing spree, and she hasn't caught him yet. Who's to say she ever will? We need to gank this guy, not because of her, but because he's hurting innocent people."

"You're right, I know you're right," Sam said, sighing. "But do we really have to bring her with us? Don't you think things might get, I don't know, a little complicated? We work alone, Dean."

"What are you talking about, complicated? To me, it looks very simple. We're hunting the same monster, and she knows him better than us. She's an asset in this case. And we only work alone _most_ of the time. What about Cas? Bobby? Ellen? Wouldn't be the first time we've had someone else with us on a case."

Sam's brows furrowed a little as he considered it. Eventually, his shoulders slumped a bit and he nodded.

"Fine. She can come. But we still have to figure out where to start."


	7. Chapter 7

It was getting late, so they decided to find a motel room in town while they pondered what the next move should be. Beth suggested a place that was a short drive away, and then sat down on her bed in the warehouse.

"Wait, you're staying here?" Dean asked, surprised.

"Well, yeah," Beth replied. "I didn't expect that you and Sam would share a bed… And there's no reason for me to spend my money on a hotel room when I've been sleeping here."

Dean looked at her, deliberating. The thought of her sleeping in the big, empty warehouse made him feel uneasy, and a little bit sad. Sam watched Dean, his face unreadable.

"I could take the couch, or sleep on the floor if there isn't one," Dean prompted.

"How gentlemanly," Beth said, smirking. "But really, Dean, I'm fine. Just come pick me up in the morning. Oh, and here," she said, rummaging in her bag and pulling out a notepad. "Text me when you're on your way over." She jotted down her number and handed it to Dean. He fought the urge to smile. "Cas, I'm going to fix up the warding that they scuffed up. You're gonna want to vamoose."

Cas nodded. "Goodnight, Beth."

"Okay, we'll see you in the morning," Sam said. "Be safe, don't leave the warehouse."

Beth smiled at Sam and gave him a mock salute. Dean looked at her for a few moments, thinking about what to say. She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"'Night, Dean."

"'Night, Beth."

Dean slept poorly that night. He blamed it on his worry about Jimmy, and how they were going to find him. If truth be told, he was worrying about something else, too. He spent his time lying awake in the dark, wondering what they should do next. Contact Billy? Spend a day scouring police reports and news articles? Or, should they just continue hunting with one more in tow, until they found a lead? There were no good answers.

Finally, soft grey light peeked in between the motel curtains. He scanned the room, only to see Sam still asleep, and Cas nowhere to be found.

"Cas?" he asked gruffly into the silence. No answer. "Sammy. Wake up."

"Hmm?" Sam asked through a haze of sleep.

"Time to get up. We need to figure out where Cas went."

Sam sat up at that, and looked around the room. Cas had been sitting at the table, on the computer when they had gone to sleep. Dean assumed he was going to spend much of the night doing research, looking for any strange crimes or deaths involving religious groups, or burnt-out eyes.

"He probably needed a break," Sam grumbled, swinging his legs off the side of the bed.

Sam eventually hobbled into the bathroom for a shower, and Dean tried calling Cas. No answer. After both boys were showered and dressed, they went to the lobby to check out.

"Better text Beth, let her know we're on our way," Sam said. In all actuality, Dean had been thinking about texting her for a while now, but pretended like he had forgotten.

"Oh, yeah you're right. Good call."

 _Hey Beth, it's Dean. We're about to head to the warehouse_

He sent off the text, and then sent one to Cas as well. The climbed into the Impala and drove back out of town. Beth was waiting outside, leaning against the side of the building. She was wearing tight, olive-green pants, black running shoes, and a black tank top. Her duffel was slung across her shoulder, and he could see his reflection in her sunglasses as he approached.

"Morning. Uh… Sleep okay?"

"Eh, pretty shitty, actually. It bothers me that we don't have a concrete plan. I'm a planner. Kept me up."

"Yeah, same," Dean said, paying attention to how close he stood to her.

"Where's Cas?" she asked, looking at Sam, and then into the car.

"We're not sure," Sam responded. "Tried calling him and texting him. I'm guessing he's just out doing some research, looking for leads. He feels a certain amount of… responsibility for the angels falling. I would think he very much wants to be able to track Jimmy down."

"Are you going to tell me why he feels responsible for that?" she asked, corner of her mouth crooked upwards in a slight smile.

"Maybe in the car," Sam said, smiling back. Dean felt a pang of jealousy that he furiously beat down.

"We don't even know where we're going yet," Beth prodded. "Unless the two of you have some brilliant idea I don't know about."

"Nope," Dean said with a shrug.

"Maybe we should head to the bunker until we hear from Cas. See if the Men of Letters had any records of rogue angels."

"Men of Letters?" Beth asked, confused. "Bunker? You guys have a lot to tell me, I think."

Sam glanced uneasily at Dean, still not sure he was ready to let her in so quickly.

"I guess you're right," Dean replied, ignoring Sam's annoyed expression. "We'll tell you during the drive. I can take that," he said, gesturing unsurely towards Beth's duffel.

She looked at him with an unreadable smile, but handed her bag over and followed Dean as he approached the trunk.

"Whoa," she gasped when Dean opened the trunk, revealing the Devil's Trap, other warding, and their vast collection of weaponry. "Nice. You boys didn't tell me you were collectors."

"Nah, we're not really," Dean replied. "Just never quite know what you're going to need."

He loaded up Beth's bag and the three of them climbed into the car. Sam offered to let Beth sit in the front, but she declined saying that she would be much more comfortable in the back than Sam would, with his 'abnormally long stalks.' The two of them chuckled together for a moment, and Dean hated how much he hated their ease in getting along with each other.

"Let's go," he mumbled gruffly, cranking up the volume of the Van Halen tape that was playing. Beth slid into the back seat and immediately found the shoebox full of Dean's cassette tapes.

"Ooh, fun!" she exclaimed, as she started rifling through them. Dean couldn't help but grin a little as he heard her mumble to herself in appreciation of his collection. Eventually, she picked a new tape.

"Let's have a little BTO, hmm?" she asked, leaning forward between the two of them to pop out the Van Halen tape. Dean wasn't sure whether the warmth radiating on his shoulder was real or imagined, but he could smell vanilla again, and found himself wishing that Beth had taken Sam up on his offer to sit up front. "Not that there's anything wrong with Van Halen, but I'm definitely in the mood for this." She pushed the tape in and started humming along.

"And BTO is..?" Sam half asked.

"Bachman Turned Overdrive, Sammy," Beth replied. Dean waited for Sam to correct her, to tell her that only Dean was allowed to call him 'Sammy.' But he didn't. He didn't even seem to notice that she had, for as natural as it felt coming from her mouth.

"How is it that you know all of these songs and bands?" Sam asked, a little impressed. Beth shrugged.

"Some of it's from Billy, I guess. But mostly it's just because I'm a music lover. See, I actually went to college for music. My favorite part of life was when I was singing, or playing guitar or piano. My parents had me convinced I had to go to school for something, so it might as well have been for something I loved, right? But then they died, and I had to drop out. I couldn't afford it on my own. I planned to keep training myself, and become one of those self-taught artists. But when I moved in with Billy… I don't know, it started to fall away. I became more interested in learning about hunting rather than practicing. Then when we found Jimmy… I don't know. It just kind of slipped away from me, I guess. Still, playing in bars is what keeps a roof over my head, and food in my stomach these days. So it did me a little good."

"Wow," Sam said quietly.

"What?" Beth asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're not judging me, are you?"

"No, no, not at all," Sam replied quickly. "Quite the opposite, actually. I can relate. Both of our parents are dead. We kind of adopted an older hunter as a dad, and I also started school but never finished. I was going to be a lawyer."

"No way! Where did you go to school?"

"All right, all right. Let's stop comparing sob stories and talk about the hunt, okay?" Dean interjected, trying to hide the irritation he felt. "Beth, have you noticed any patterns in where Jimmy has been showing up?"

Sam and Beth exchanged a quick glance, but neither said anything. Beth expanded a little on where she had tracked Jimmy and when, and the three of them eventually fell into a steady conversation about the different hunts they had been on, and their interactions with angels. Sam told Beth about the Leviathan, and the angels falling. A few hours had passed, when Dean again thought of Cas.

"Sam, why don't you try calling Cas again?"

Sam pulled out his cell phone and pressed a few buttons. Dean could hear the faint sound of the rings coming from the speaker, before he heard the gruffness of Cas's voicemail.

"Still nothing," Sam said. "Should we… Should we pray to him? I mean, maybe he doesn't have his phone for some reason, and doesn't know where to find us because of the warding?"

"No, Beth isn't warded," Dean said.

"Actually, yep. I'm warded," she said.

"What? How?" Dean asked.

"I have a tattoo. You guys aren't the only ones who had that idea."

"Where?" Dean asked. He couldn't help himself. Beth smiled, and he saw it in the rear-view mirror. His heart stuttered a little.

"On my back. Mind out of the gutter," she replied laughing. "I'll try praying to him, but one of you should too. He can probably pick your prayers out better than mine."

The car went silent as they each called to Cas in their minds.

 _Cas?_ Dean called out in his mind, feeling silly. After all this time, he still found it strange to pray to Cas. _Just in case you don't have your phone, we hit the road. We're in the Impala, just a little bit past Mehmphis. Route 55, mile marker 76. Come if you can. If not, give us a call._

All Dean heard was silence, and he shook his head in disappointment. Then, he heard the slightest ruffle, and Beth gave out a little shriek.

"Oh my gosh, don't _do_ that!" she said, lightly punching Cas on the shoulder. Dean smiled.

"What should I have done, landed on the roof of the car?" Cas asked. The boys chuckled at how snarky he could be.

"Hmm, guess not," she said, eyeing him up and down. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

"Cas, where's your phone?" Dean asked.

"I have it here, Dean. But I think I was somewhere that had no service."

"Where?" Sam asked.

Cas looked at Beth, then made eye contact with Dean through the mirror.

"I wanted to see if anyone had heard about angels having memory-loss problems. The best place I could think to go…"

"Heaven," Sam and Dean said in unison.

Cas nodded, and Beth's jaw dropped.


	8. Chapter 8

"So, wait. You just came from heaven? What's it like?" Beth asked eagerly. Dean thought about interrupting to tell her that he had also been to heaven, but resisted the urge.

"Heaven is different for humans than it is for angels. Each human has his or her own little 'slice' of heaven, which is different for each person. As an angel, I can move between the slices, or I can spend time in the garden. Which is where I was."

"Find anything out?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure," Cas responded. "There are roughly twenty angels living on Earth, who have not reported to heaven since the Fall. Some of them have not regained their grace, some may have."

"So we're no further along?" Dean asked, irritated.

"I can't be sure," Cas said uneasily. "If I had to make my best guess, Jimmy is actually Tabbris. Just a theory I have, based on who is unaccounted for, and what Beth has told us about him."

"Does knowing his name help us?" Beth asked.

"It might," Dean replied. "We could do a summoning ritual. We performed one for Cas back before we really knew him. It worked, he showed."

"Yeah, but Dean, that was dangerous. And this is just as dangerous. Firstly, we don't know if Jimmy really _is_ Tabbris. What if we try to summon him, and it's someone totally different? We could potentially be pissing off someone even _more_ dangerous than Jimmy! And what are we going to do if it is him? He wants to kill Beth! Badly, apparently."

"We are way more prepared to deal with a pissed-off angel than we were the last time, Sammy. If you didn't notice, we actually _have_ an angel here. We know how they operate now."

"Come on Cas, back me up," Sam said. "What do you know about Tabbris?"

"Tabbris is the angel of self-determination. If he wants to kill Beth, he will be more determined to do so than we can possibly imagine. I think that if we do confront him, she should not be nearby. Perhaps it would be wise to keep to the plan of heading to the bunker, and doing some more research."

Dean pursed his lips in irritation of being outnumbered, until he remembered that there was another person in the car who might balance the scales.

"What do you think, Beth?"

"I was wondering when someone was going to ask me. Honestly, I'm torn. I do think we need to track down Jimmy… Maybe Tabbris as soon as possible. But I don't want to risk botching it and getting any of you three hurt. Much as I hate to say it, let's stick with the plan. If we want to summon him when we have more information, we can."

Dean huffed a little, but said nothing. He just kept driving as the scenery flew by.

After what felt like forever, they made it to the bunker. Sam and Beth were both asleep, Sam snoring lightly and Beth with her mouth hanging open just a bit. She looked adorable. Cas had been sitting quietly for the last hour or two, staring stonily out the window.

"Hey, we're here," Dean said, nudging Sam with his elbow. Beth stirred as Cas climbed out of the car.

"This is home?" she asked, as Dean unlocked the door and they walked down the staircase. "It's awesome! Dean, you gonna show me around?" Dean felt some heat creep up towards his face and hoped it wouldn't be too noticeable.

"Sure. Let's pick out a room for you and we can drop your bag there first." It bothered him that she was carrying her own bag again. He had taken it out of the trunk for her, but she grabbed it and slung it over her shoulder, batting his hand away as he reached for it.

Beth followed him down the hallway where he and Sam slept, and Dean pointed to the open bedrooms.

"None of them have any windows, unfortunately. They're all pretty much the same." She wandered into a room and dropped her duffel on the bed. Her hand reached to her hair, and she pulled the hair-tie out, letting her long brown locks fall onto her shoulders. Dean gulped.

The fact was, he wanted this girl. There was no point trying to deny it, or cover it up. But usually when he wanted a girl, he was a shameless flirt, quickly finding out whether she was interested or not. So why couldn't he do that with Beth? The thought of being cheesy and telling her how gorgeous she was, or making some innuendo about sex made his skin crawl. He told himself it was because she was a hunter too, and was likely going to be around for a while. Whatever way he interacted with her would stick with him for weeks, potentially.

"Earth to Dean," Beth said with a smile, brushing her fingertips on his forearm. Goosebumps erupted there. "I lost you there for a second," she said with a laugh.

"Yeah, well you got to sleep in the car. I didn't," Dean quipped back.

"Fair enough. Got enough energy to show me the kitchen?"

"Right this way," Dean responded. He showed her the bathroom, and they wandered past the library and the archives. In the kitchen, he opened the door to the refrigerator. "Not much here, we'll have to make a food run tomorrow. Want a beer?"

"Definitely," she replied, stepping up close behind him and peering into the fridge. She grabbed one and they wandered out into the library. "So you guys have been doing this a long time, huh?"

"Yep. Pretty much since I could hold a gun. My dad taught us both."

"It's surprising that he would have wanted you two to have a life like that."

"He was obsessed with avenging our mom's death. Didn't seem to mind too much who got caught in the crossfire. Sam tried to get out of this life, but I pulled him back into it. There are days when I regret that, and days where I think it's the best thing I ever did." _Why am I telling her all this?_ But she looked interested, or else she was very good at faking.

"I heard you've been to hell," she half whispered. Dean's jaw tightened, and he nodded. "What was it like?"

"I… I tried to pretend that I couldn't remember it at first. But it kept creeping into my dreams, or I would get flashes of it when I stopped running. It was hell. Not much else to say about it."

Beth nodded and took a sip of her beer. She perched on the edge of one of the tables and looked at him intently. Dean wondered briefly where Sam and Cas were, but didn't put too much thought into it. It was late. Sam was probably in bed, and Cas may have already started research.

"I've been to heaven, too," Dean supplied quietly.

"Really?"

"Mmhmm," Dean responded, taking a swig himself.

"Are you going to make me ask you to tell me about it?" she asked with a smirk.

"Mmhmm," Dean said again, smirking back at her.

"How was heaven, Dean?"

"It was okay. Not as great as you'd think, but certainly not bad." Beth laughed.

"What a ringing endorsement!"

"I think part of the reason it didn't seem like all that was because we were being hunted by angels while we were there. Takes some of the fun out of it."

"I'll say," she replied sadly. "Sounds like my life, lately."

"We'll find him, Beth. Promise."

She looked up at him, her brown eyes uncertain. Dean took a moment to admire her long lashes, and the tiny line between her eyebrows, probably caused from too much worrying.

"You know, Dean, anyone else would tell me that, and I would think they were full of it. But with you, and Sam and Cas… I think I actually believe you. Thanks for that." She reached up and gave him a gentle clap on the shoulder. Her hand was warm through the fabric of his shirt. It would be so easy to step closer and put his hands on her waist. _Don't do it,_ Dean told himself. _You've only know this girl a couple days. Don't mess it up._

"Sure thing, Beth. I'm gonna turn in. Do you know the way back to your room?" She stepped back from him, her smile fading slightly.

"Yep, just down that hall. Night, Dean."

"Sweet dreams," Dean said, and walked toward his bedroom without turning back.

The next morning, Dean woke up and glanced at the clock. He had slept longer than he meant to, but had finally gotten a decent night of sleep. He got dressed and wandered out to the library to see if Sam was up. As Dean approached the room, he could hear talking and laughter. It sounded like Cas, Sam, and Beth were all there. He first saw Cas, who was sitting at a table by himself with a stack of books in front of him, but was smiling slightly, obviously distracted, looking at something else in the room. Dean walked farther in and saw Beth and Sam sitting across from each other, laughing, and taking turns throwing pieces of cereal into each other's mouths from across the table. Once again, he envied his brother for the ease with which he could relate to Beth. Dean cleared his throat, and the Cheerio that Sam was aiming for Beth's mouth went wide left. Beth lightly slapped Sam's arm, then followed his gaze over her shoulder. Her smile faltered when she saw Dean standing there.

"Uh, hey Dean," Sam said hesitantly, seeing Dean's stony expression. "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah, fine," Dean grunted. "You three just been playing all morning, or do we have anything to go on?"

"Coming from the guy who just woke up," Beth said, rolling her eyes but smiling. "We pulled all of the books we could find on angels, but there aren't a ton. Figured we'd have some breakfast before diving in."

Dean sat down and pulled the box of cereal, carton of milk, and a bowl toward him. He knew he was being childish, but even though he knew this and wanted to stop, he was having a hard time forgiving his brother. And Beth. And Cas, for just sitting there and watching it. _Forgive them for what?_ Dean's rational side prodded him. _They're allowed to have two minutes of fun._

"So, Dean, I actually got an email from Jody," Sam said, looking back at his laptop screen. "She said she heard about a haunting in Nebraska, only a couple hours north of us. Wanted to know if we're busy."

"And you told her we _are_ busy, right?" Dean asked, still trying to shake his grumpiness.

"Well, no. I haven't responded yet. I just figured, maybe we could go take care of it, while Cas gets some more research done. We don't have much else to do yet."

"Other than help Cas try to find Jimmy, or Tabbris, or whoever," Dean replied. "Don't you think that's more important?"

"I can handle the research, Dean," Cas said pointedly. "I'm an angel. My reading speed far surpasses your own." Dean sighed and looked at Beth.

"I'm guessing I'm overruled on this one?"

"Well, you could stay here and help Cas, and Sam and I could take care of the ghost," she replied shrugging. "I'm sure the two of us could handle it."

"No, no, no," Dean replied, trying not to sound too panicky. "No way I'm letting you two jokesters take my baby on a road trip without me."

"All right!" Beth said brightly. "Let's get to Nebraska!"


	9. Chapter 9

The drive was mercifully short, and there were still a few hours of daylight left when they arrived. The building that Jody mentioned was an old three-story office building. They heard from the locals that the area had gone downhill in recent years, and so the first floor was the only one with any tenants. Apparently, an employee had an unstable fit years ago, and had murdered his boss after a demotion.

"I think it happened on the third floor," an employee working downstairs had told them. She was a middle-aged secretary who had been working in the building since her twenties. "Nasty incident. And it wasn't long before that company moved out of this building."

Sam asked if there was a conference room they could use to speak in private, and she led them down a hallway into a sparsely decorated room, with a long table and some chairs. Dean and Beth followed the secretary into the room, and Sam doubled back to use the restroom.

"Mrs. Munoz, have you noticed anything strange around here, specifically after that murder happened?" Dean asked.

"Are you asking me if the people have started behaving differently, or if I've seen a ghost? Well, it doesn't matter I guess, because the answer to both questions is yes."

"Wait, you've seen a ghost?" Beth asked, her eyes lighting up.

"Yes I have, and I'll stand by that, even though you all might think I'm crazy."

"No, Mrs. Munoz. We're the last people on Earth who would think you were crazy for saying that you've seen a ghost," Dean replied. "Want to tell us about it?" She eyed him skeptically for a moment, then shrugged.

"It was in the evening. Everyone had already left for the day, but I had forgotten my phone and had to come back for it. I came in and heard some kind of scraping upstairs."

"You didn't happen to see the lights flickering, or anything like that?" Dean asked.

"How in the hell would you know about that?" she asked, surprised.

"Just a guess," he replied. "Please, go on."

"The lights were flickering like crazy, and it felt like it had dropped ten degrees since I had left fifteen minutes before. I thought maybe it was building maintenance, and decided to go up and tell them that there was something wrong with the heating and cooling system, and the first-floor lights. There was no one on the second floor, but I could still hear the scraping sound, so I climbed up to the third floor. There, in the office at the end of the hall, a man was standing by a desk, sort of pushing it around a little. I crept toward him, but then he sort of flickered and disappeared. I ran out of there like a bat out of hell."

"How long ago was this?" Beth asked, looking up as Sam reentered the room.

"Oh, a couple years now. But the weirdness hasn't stopped. The lights still flicker now and then, and the temperature will drop. I haven't gone up to the third floor since then, though. Won't ever do it again." Dean gave Sam a quick rundown of what she had told them, and they asked a few more questions.

"Thanks for your time, ma'am. We're going to look into this further," Dean said.

The three of them walked back outside and stood by the Impala.

"What do you think, go find a room and come back here after work hours?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, but we should do some research on the guy who died. Looks like we're going to need to find out where he's buried."

"I wouldn't mind trying to find a bar or a lounge in the area. Most of my cash was in the car that Cas crashed, and still hasn't retrieved for me. I need to try to make some tips tonight."

"What about your guitar?" Sam asked. "Wasn't that in the car too?"

"Shit," she muttered. "Forgot about that. Maybe one of these places has a piano in house."

"All right, so plan of attack. Get a room, do some research, gank a ghost, and still have time to sing some songs and hustle some pool? Going to be a busy day," Dean chuckled.

They found a motel and Dean went into the lobby to find them a room. He hadn't asked Beth if she wanted a separate room, and she hadn't volunteered anything, so he was just going to book one. If money was tight for her at the moment, he'd be pleased as punch to let her share with them. His heart fluttered nervously when he thought about what the sleeping arrangements would be. He had previously offered to take the couch or floor if she stayed with them, but they knew each other better now, right? He could share a bed with her and there would be plenty of room… He swallowed and felt a swooping sensation in his stomach as he imagined lying next to her.

Dean went back outside, room key in hand, only to be startled out of his reverie by the sight of Beth and Sam singing loudly together in the car and laughing. His smile turned into a frown and he stomped towards the Impala.

"You could've started to get the bags out of the car," Dean spat at Sam, whose smile faltered a little.

"Didn't know how long you were going to be," Beth chimed in, jumping out of the car and striding over to the trunk. Sam pulled his long legs out of the car and stood next to her, watching Dean. They grabbed their bags and walked into the room. It wasn't as bad as some places they'd stayed. A faintly musty scent hung in the air, but the sheets looked crisp and clean, and everything appeared to be working and intact.

"I'll find out the name of the guy who was murdered, and where he's buried," Sam said, pulling out his laptop. Beth plopped down on the bed and flicked on the television. Dean pulled out his laptop as well, and started looking up bars and lounges in the area. He jotted down the phone numbers of three places, planning to call each to see which had house instruments and pool tables. After about ten minutes of research and phone calls, they seemed to be in luck.

"The murder victim's name was Jeffrey Wellingsly. He was the manager of the local branch of that investment firm on the 3rd floor. He's buried in St. James Cemetery, east of town," Sam spouted out.

"Okay, so should we all go to the cemetery?" Beth asked. "Or should one of us go there, and the other two go to the building, to make sure it works?"

"It would take just one of us way too long to dig up a grave alone," Sam replied. "Maybe we all go to the cemetery together to get it started, and then the two of you can get back to the office building to make sure it works when I salt and burn the body."

Dean didn't know whether Sam was aware of his crush on Beth, but he was grateful that Sam suggested that Dean and Beth stick together.

"Sounds like a plan. Think it's dark enough to start digging up a grave?" Beth popped up and looked out the window.

"No, it's almost dark now," she replied. "We should be fine once we get to the cemetery."

"All right, let's pack it up and go," Dean said. "I also found a place called The Park Den that has both an in-house piano and several pool tables. I say we hit that up after."

An uneventful drive later, they were at the St. James cemetery, following Sam as he navigated on his phone toward Jeffrey Wellingsly's plot. It was dark, with just the faintest hint of purple on the horizon, where the sun had set just a little while ago. Dean loved this time of year. The early evening dark. The crisp air and smell of leaves. It was a shame they were walking through a cemetery to burn a body, and not something more pleasant.

"Here we go," said Sam, stopping in front of a gravestone and dropping his shovel down from his shoulder. Dean nodded, and the three of them started digging.

They dug in silence for a while. It was a little awkward with Beth there at first. Sam and Dean were so used to working as a pair, that Dean felt cramped and crowded for a little while. After a while though, when Beth started humming and the hole got deeper faster, he appreciated having an extra set of hands. Finally, Dean heard a _clank_ as his shovel hit the coffin. They all straightened up.

"I can finish up this last little bit," Sam said. "You two head to the office, and call me when you get there." Dean nodded.

"Be safe," he said.

"You too," Sam replied. Beth smiled and gave Sam a clap on the shoulder, and then she and Dean climbed out of the hole and walked toward the Impala. Dean felt a slight flush in his face as they walked in silence.

"So how many ghosts have you two ganked?" she asked.

"Too many to say," Dean replied. "A hundred? I'm not sure."

"Quite the life," she replied. "Don't you ever get tired?" Dean chuckled.

"All the damn time. In fact, I'm not sure I remember what it's like to _not_ be tired," he pondered, as the leaves crunched under their boots, and the stars shone above.

"So why not take a break? Or retire, even?"

"There's no retiring from this. It's who we are. The running keeps the demons at bay. Figuratively, not literally," he smiled at her. Her quiet laugh was the prettiest sound he'd heard all day.

"So you're just stuck doing something you're tired of doing until you die?"

"You make it sound worse than it is. It's a choice, after all. And just because I'm tired, doesn't mean I hate it. There's something satisfying about thinking that what you do somehow makes a difference." They got into the car and Dean started toward the office building.

"You do make a difference, Dean," Beth said quietly. "You and Sam… You're legends in the hunting world, and I haven't even been in this world that long. People know what you and your brother have done. I think it makes a lot of good guys sleep a little better at night knowing you're out there, fighting the good fight. And it makes the bad guys lose a little sleep."

"Thanks, Beth. But there's plenty out there that don't like us."

"Then they just don't know you like I do, do they?" she said, smiling. Dean chuckled as they pulled into the office's parking lot. The windows were all dark.

"It looks so ordinary," Beth said. "You'd never think a ghost would be here. You'd picture some old, decrepit mansion, or a rundown church or something. This is just an ordinary office building."

"Yeah, you never know," Dean replied, grabbing some iron crowbars and rock-salt shells out of the trunk. He handed one of each to Beth. "Ready to kill someone who's already dead?" he asked, with a wolfish grin. She laughed.

"Hell yeah! But I'm guessing this place has an alarm system, right? How are we going to get in without tripping it?"

Dean grinned and pulled a well-worn sticky note from his pocket. When Sam had gone to 'use the restroom' he had actually gone back to Mrs. Munoz's desk and found a list of the security codes right there.

"Sam grabbed this earlier," he said. "People are very predictable, overall." Beth nodded and smiled as Dean pulled out his tools and started jimmying the lock. When the door clicked open, the alarm box in the corner started beeping. Dean rushed over and entered the 'disarm' code from the sticky note. The beeping stopped, and the light on the box turned green.

"Easy as pie," Dean said, winking at her. He pulled out his phone and called Sam.

"Hey, Dean. You in the building?"

"Yep, the code you snagged worked just fine," Dean replied. "You get the coffin open?"

"Yeah, there's definitely someone in it. Hopefully it's Mr. Wellingsly."

"All right, hang on a minute while we get up to the 3rd floor."

"Yep."

Dean and Beth walked to the stairwell and climbed up the two floors in silence. Dean had his flashlight in one hand and shotgun in the other, while Beth held her crowbar out in front of her like a sword. If she was nervous, she didn't show it.

"All right, we're upstairs," Dean whispered into the phone.

"Anything there?" Sam asked.

"Nothing yet. We'll look around."

Beth nodded toward the office at the end of the hall, where Mrs. Munoz had seen the ghost. Dean nodded and followed her. It was eerily quiet. Too quiet. Inside the office, there was a layer of dust, but nothing out of place. Beth looked at Dean and shrugged.

"Maybe whatever was here isn't here anymore," she whispered.

"No," Dean replied. "Ghosts can't just choose to stop haunting. They made a choice at the time of death to stay behind. A choice that unfortunately does not offer a second chance." He walked around the office, looking through drawers and behind the desk. He reached for the knob of the closet in the corner, until he heard the clang of metal falling to the ground, and Beth's gasp. Dean wheeled around, flashlight and shotgun pointing straight at Beth, who was being choked by a man. A gray, cold man, with a snarl on his face, and his long, white fingers wrapped around Beth's throat.

"Hey!" Dean yelled. "Let her go!"

"Dean? Dean!" Sam yelled through the phone. "Is he there?"

Dean had dropped his phone when he whipped around.

"Yes! Burn it! Burn the damn thing!" he yelled, hoping Sam could hear him from the phone on the floor. He aimed at the ghost's head, but the ghost had spun Beth around so she was facing Dean, shielding himself from the shotgun. His clammy, white arm was clamped around her throat, and her fingers digging into it were giving her no relief. Dean's fear as he watched her lips turned a blue was hard to describe. Terror. It wasn't something he was used to feeling.

"Dean… Shoot him…" Beth croaked.

"I can't, I'll hit you," he replied, terror mounting.

"It's just… Salt…" she gasped. Her fingers were loosening now, and Dean could see her eyes losing their focus. He cocked the gun, fingers trembling. But finally, miraculously, an orange glow started to build under the ghost's skin.

"No. No!" he yelled, releasing Beth and staggering backwards. The glow built until he was smoldering like the embers from a fire. His scream echoed around the room and he burst into dust.

Dean let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, but his heart stopped when he saw Beth laying on the floor. Not moving.


	10. Chapter 10

"Beth? Beth, honey, come back to me. Wake up!" Dean was trying very hard not to panic as he dropped to his knees at her side and shook her shoulders. "Breathe, damnit." He was just about to start CPR when she gasped and her eyelids fluttered open.

"Dean, did you get him?" Beth asked. Dean let out a small, stressed laugh.

"Sam burned him. You all right? You scared me."

Dean was suddenly aware that at some point between dropping to his knees and now, he had collected Beth up so she was in arms, almost on his lap. She was so soft, but he registered that she was not as warm as she should be, after having been choked by an ice-cold ghost. He helped her into a sitting position and slipped out of his jacket, which he draped around her shoulders.

"Mm hmm," she sighed, brown eyes meeting green. It would be so easy for Dean to lean forward and kiss her on her cheek, her forehead… Those lips. But now that the adrenaline rush was fading, the shame started to creep in. She had been in the chokehold of a ghost, and he froze, panicking. It wasn't like him, and that was alarming. What was that girl doing to him? He pushed himself back from her and stood up.

"Dean?" she asked. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," she joked, a small smile playing on her mouth.

"Always with the jokes," he grumbled, helping her to her feet. "You good? Okay to walk?"

"I'm fine," she insisted. Dean took a deep breath.

"I'm really sorry about that," he said. "I should have been quicker. I just… hesitated."

"Happens to the best of us," she replied. "And you should know, Dean. You're the best of us."

He risked a glance at her face and saw that she was smiling. Some of her color was returning. Dean grunted, and picked up his phone, dialing Sam's number.

"Dean? Are you both okay?" a worried Sam asked through the call.

"We're fine," he responded. "We'll pick you up at the entrance to the cemetery." Dean ended the call, not wanting to launch into the details yet.

Ten minutes later, the three of them were on the way to the bar.

"You sure you're up for this?" Dean asked Beth. "I mean, how are you going to sing, when you were just being choked? Sam and I can front you some cash."

"I'm _fine_ Dean. Just a little tender." Dean and Sam exchanged a glance and then shrugged. "I'll see you guys in a little while."

Dean watched as Beth approached a waitress and struck up a conversation, presumably about whether they had any live music on the schedule for tonight. The waitress gestured for Beth to wait, and an older woman, maybe the manager or owner, approached Beth a minute later. They spoke for a minute or two, and then walked over to the piano together. Beth sat down at it, and started playing. There were no microphones on her yet, so Dean couldn't hear whether she was any good. Judging by the way the older woman's eyebrows shot up, and the way her mouth turned up in a smile, Beth must have at least been holding her own.

"Well, looks like she's all set," Sam muttered. "Want to get a beer?"

"Sure," Dean grunted, tearing his eyes away from Beth and the manager, who were now working on getting the microphones set up.

"Looks like we might be able to get a game of pool going," Sam pointed out, gesturing to an already drunk group of guys who were huddled around one of the two tables. He ordered them beers, just as a voice came from the stage.

"Testing, testing," Beth said quietly. "Hi ladies and gents," she continued, louder. "I'm Beth, and Miranda has agreed to let me play for you all for an hour or two. You'll notice the jar on the stage in front of me, so just keep noticing it, all right? Requests are five bucks. If I've heard it, I can probably stumble my way through it."

Dean chuckled at the line that she seemed to use each time she played, but his smile faded as she launched into her first song, a rendition of the popular _House of the Rising Sun._ Her voice sounded like she was meant to sing it. Dean tried to determine if she sounded raspier than the last time he'd heard her sing, because of the ghost incident. That train of thought wasn't a pleasant one, though, as guilt washed over him all over again. Why had he frozen? He was so terrified of hurting her, even though it was just with some rock salt, that he froze. She could have been killed.

Why? Why did he react that way? Sam had been in predicaments like that plenty of times, and Dean had always been able to keep a clear head and take the shot. What was different about Beth. _You love her,_ a pesky voice jabbed him. _No, definitely not,_ Dean retorted. _Only known her a couple days. Not possible._ But the human mind isn't a particularly rational thing. She already felt like family to him, like home. Maybe it was how she just seemed to get him, seemed to understand what this life was like, and why he chose it. She got along so well with Sam, and despite that irritating Dean sometimes, seemed like a necessary part of her sticking around with them.

 _Sticking around? How long is that going to go on?_ His subconscious asked. _We work alone._ Beth finished her song, and the audience clapped and whistled. Dean clapped along with them, but his jaw was clenched from his internal dilemma. _I know,_ he told himself. _But having her around for a hunt or two can't hurt, right?_

 _But then what?_ The mean little voice asked. _It's not going to get easier to let her go with time. It's only going to get harder. And you're obviously too attached already, or you wouldn't be having problems hunting with her._

"Dean?" Sam shook Dean out of his reverie. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I'm okay, Sammy. Let's hustle these jokers."

He and Sam clinked their beers together, and marched over to the pool tables to make some money.

The rest of the night was foggy. Dean's angst had led him to drink more than he meant to, and although he had been able to hold it together long enough for him and Sam to make a couple hundred playing pool, the shots that he took at the bar after they were done had put him over the edge. Sam had tried to slow him down more than once, but he wasn't having any of it, apparently. Beth and Sam had had to support him as they stumbled back to the motel.

He was paying for it now. The bright light that peeked in between the curtains of the window was shining directly into his face, making his head throb. He grunted and buried his head into the pillow, trying to fall back asleep. Then, a disturbing thought occurred to him.

Where was Beth sleeping?

Dean sat up quickly, and instantly regretted it, as the throbbing in his heard turned into more of a stabbing. He winced, and looked over at the other bed in the room. Two figures were bundled up under the white blankets. One much taller than the other. Dean saw red.

He stood up and strode toward the bed, not sure yet what he was planning to do. Sam was sprawled out on his back, sound asleep. Beth was lying mostly on her stomach, with her head lightly resting on Sam's shoulder, her hair wild and spilling out over the pillow. The sight of her sleeping so peacefully cooled Dean down a little, and he took a step back. Whatever reason they had for sharing a bed, there was nothing between them, right? They weren't interested in each other romantically, and there was no way they would have…. _done anything_ while Dean was right there in the room, right?

Dean knew rationally that it wouldn't have happened. But the pain that he felt when he watched this girl with her head resting on Sam's shoulder rather than his, was way more intense that he would have expected. All the pondering and the drinking last night had gotten him nowhere. He was just as stuck, just as puzzled as he had been the previous day. Suddenly, he needed some fresh air. Dean crept into the bathroom to brush his teeth and splash some water on his face, then pulled on some jeans, boots, and a jacket. He wondered for a moment who had stripped him down to his boxers and t-shirt last night, but quickly pushed the thought out of his head.

Moments later, he was outside in the dim morning sun, walking nowhere in particular. He passed a bookstore and a couple cafes. There were already people outside walking dogs, or jogging down the sidewalk. It was very peaceful.

When Dean had been walking for ten minutes or so, a store window caught his eye. There was a pearl-white guitar shimmering behind the glass. It was beautiful. He glanced up to see the name of the store. It was called RiffRaff, and looked like a second-hand music supply store. Without thinking, Dean was tugging on the handle, surprised when the door was locked. There was a faded sign hanging in the window: STORE HOURS: MON-SAT, 9-7. SUN, 9-3.

He had about ten more minutes until the place opened, so he stormed across the street to get some coffee. When 9am rolled around, he was swinging the door open just as the shopkeeper was able to unlock it.

"Dean?" Sam strode toward him, obviously worried. He had been leaning on the side of the Impala, but jumped up when he saw Dean walking toward him. "Are you okay? We woke up and you were gone. You left your phone on the bed."

Dean wanted to jibe back something crude about Sam and Beth sleeping together, but resisted the urge, knowing it would help no one.

"I'm fine Sam. Needed some fresh air."

"I know what this is about, Dean. You have to know that there's nothing going on between Beth and me. We decided to share a bed because you were passed out drunk, taking up most of the other one. If that wasn't the case…" Sam let the thought trail off. Dean felt a blush creeping up his neck and cheeks.

"Sam, what the hell are you talking about?" Dean replied gruffly, trying to act cool. Sam didn't buy it.

"We don't have to talk about this Dean, it's not my business. But I just want you to know that I'm not into Beth. At least not romantically. She reminds me too much of you for that," he added as an afterthought, chuckling. "And she's not into me, either."

"Whatever, Sammy," Dean said, going for nonchalance as he shrugged his shoulders. The gesture was somewhat marred by the guitar case he was carrying. Sam glanced down at it, the corners of his mouth tugging up just a bit.

"Taking up an instrument?" he asked smugly.

"Just figured we ought to replace at least some of what we lost. Can't always expect to find a bar with an in-house piano."

Sam nodded, and the two of them walked to the door of the hotel room. Beth was sitting cross-legged on the bed Dean had been sleeping on, and her head snapped up when they walked in. Relief washed over her features.

"Dean, thank goodness! Why wouldn't you take your phone with you?" She didn't seem to notice the guitar case he had set on the ground by the door, as she all but sprang across the room to hug him. Sam's words had helped to reassure him, but this hug sparked hope. Stupid, stupid hope.

"I'm alright, sweetie, I can take care of myself, you know." _Sweetie? Where did that come from? You sound like an idiot._ But Beth wasn't looking at him like he was an idiot. She was looking at him like he was her favorite person in the world. "I've got something for you," Dean grunted, turning to pick up the guitar case. "Sorry about your old guitar… And your car… And allof your other possessions."

Her eyes widened as she pulled the guitar out of the case. "This is amazing!" And then she was off, talking about the specs of the guitar, and who she had known in school that had one like this. She plopped on the bed and started tuning and strumming away, smiling all the while. Dean's heart warmed watching her, but Sam snapped him out of it.

"That's all well and good, Dean, but what do we do from here? Jimmy is still out there."

Dean sighed. "Time to call Cas."


End file.
